A Memorial Worth Watching
by FancyLadySnackCakes
Summary: The watchful attention of the vault girl's ghoul as seen through the eyes of a lowly nurse. A short drabble. Charon/F!LW.


Just a short drabble I did with my own head canon. I don't think I'll add more to this, but knowing me it's always a possibility.

Disclaimer: Don't own Fallout.

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We complained about him from the first day. It wasn't as though he belong here after all. This was a clinic, and a ghoul had no place here, especially not hovering over her as he did day and night. Did the behemoth ever sleep? I still don't know for sure. I wouldn't be surprised to find out his kind never slept. The others say he's always awake anyways, always watching and waiting for her to wake up.

It's unnerving how he never looks away from her...

They say he's attached to her somehow, much like a hired gun or even a dog. A slave, perhaps? But I've never seen a slave so diligent when their master was unable to intimidate, at least not one without a collar on. A collar wouldn't even fit over that things neck...he was huge.

It isn't my place to judge her, or him perhaps, but the way he looks at her in that bed...it's not right. He shouldn't be allowed in here, let alone next to her. If he even blinks, he does it when I'm not looking. The only reaction I ever see from him is when I change her gauze. And the reaction he shows is small even when there is one – it's like the smallest twitch of his mouth and no more. Sometimes I feel as though he's scrutinizing the way I do my job...sometimes I feel like he's done the same thing I'm doing to her countless times.

I hear gossip that he even watches on when they bathe her.

No one has the withal to tell him to go. I think they'd rather face the girl's wrath for allowing him to watch than his resistance or insult if they try to remove him. I don't blame them for that.

He just sits there, on that broken terminal with his hands tight on his knees. He always looks ready to spring into action – like when she wakes up, if she wakes up, he'll be by her in a second. It's as if he wants to be the first thing she sees when she's awake. Who would want that face to be the first thing they see after waking though? Did he want to terrify her further? But maybe I'm looking into this too hard now, maybe it'd not like that. It's times like this I feel very much a bigot.

If devotion exists, it's in him then, I realize. I've come to see whatever he has in that gaze as something intimate, maybe even...loving. I only notice it since my father had that same look for my mother when she was dying of radiation poisoning. In this age, true love is a rarity and if I hadn't grown up with it I'd have never believed it could happen. To myself I can easily pretend that this ghoul is enraptured by this woman, but when I think that I don't know if I should feel anything but pity for him. Unrequited love it a terrible mistress, but when you look like he does it must be even more unforgiving. There was no hope for him.

She is lovely, even with the scars and burns now. A life in the vault had treated her well, and it seemed like even the harsh wasteland couldn't crack whatever porcelain case she wore. I find myself wondering what her father must have looked like, he must have been handsome or at least her mother was beautiful for her to look so...perfect. I would have been envious if beauty mattered anymore.

A month into her coma I came in with a present from my son. He's a skilled hand when it comes to old world technology, fixing everything the Brotherhood could find use for. The radio his friend found took only a couple days to finish, but the first thing he said to me was 'give it to someone who needs some music'. I couldn't think of anyone else who needed more music than the ghoul. I suppose I wanted to let him have it as way of an apology for all my unspoken bigotry.

As I expected he didn't look at me when I came in with the radio and not the gauze and slaves I normally came in with. He only had eyes for the girl breathing slowly under the stained sheets. She looked better today I thought. I looked at her similar to the he did, but like always she didn't stir. The radio tuned in easily when I plugged it in and came in clear as day. I looked over at him, saw his eyes were closed and couldn't help but stare dumbly. The song by Cole Porter was playing softly, but it felt too upbeat for his eyes being closed in any state of calm.

If he hadn't opened his eyes back up to look straight at me I would have thought he'd fallen asleep, but he only stared for a moment, as if his mere look was all the thanks she needed before he returned his gaze to the girl. I couldn't remember ever smiling so wide before – it hurt the corners of my mouth.

For three more weeks the girl didn't move, but the radio was always on. And in that time he seemed less stiff whenever I saw him. Once I even caught him sleeping – his head laid upon the edge of the bed, still facing her. That day he reminded me of a loyal dog, watching after it's world. He ate even when I brought him food, unlike the weeks before that it went cold on the plate.

On the day before she woke I was on my way to re-dress the still worrying wound on her stomach – that day I heard him speak. Nothing had ever sounded so...broken. I had leaned against the outer wall, listening to him confess things to her no ghoul should have felt comfortable confessing to a girl like her, unconscious or not. He said how special she was; that the world wouldn't recover if she didn't. The word love was never spoken, but I knew that's what he was saying to her. He was confessing his love and as much as I should have been disgusted, I'd grown to, in some way, respect him. If anything the ghoul was vigilant in keeping her safe, even if I'd seen him be less than reasonable with everyone when they were only trying their best to care for her. She was after all a savior...

Only after he was quiet for some time did I take a breath and enter. He didn't look at me, as was usual with him, nor did he seem any different as I heard him say his peace. As I'd cleaned her, the act of her being so naked and him still watching was almost normal at this point. I realized, with a quick look at him, that he looked at her like she were dead – he wasn't ogling her as the gossip had made it seem.

Maybe, I had thought for only a brief moment, he didn't expect her to wake up, maybe never had. Perhaps he just didn't know where else to go without her.

The day she woke up I was replacing a used up bag of Radaway with a fresh one. Nothing on the monitors had beeped to let me know anything was any different. It was when I turned around that he was standing. I gave a scream then before I could even think of it being rude or stupid. He was huge standing, even bigger than I'd thought and his eyes were glassy and wide. His mouth was open grossly.

He was staring down at her as he always did, but it was different, and before I looked I knew she must have been awake.

Her eyes were open indeed; the left one less open than the other and staring right back up at him. I felt like an intruder suddenly, but I couldn't move. I should have left them to each other, but even then I didn't trust him to be alone with her. She was weak and he was tall, wide and...mean-looking.

"Charr..."

Immediately he fell to his knees and I took a step back, not expecting him to be so quick. I watched him take one of her lifeless hands in both of his own – the contrast of that very image, his two massive, destroyed hands and her tiny smooth one, it would be forever burned in my memory. There was something anarchic about it, but reassuring as well. I couldn't describe how it really looked, and also felt I wasn't in a position to judge, not anymore at least.

The ghoul didn't say anything, but I could see his thin lips press together so tight that he appeared to be shaking from the strain. He looked ready to burst...

When I saw the girl close her eyes, re-open them with a sheen of un-shed tears and smile directly at him I knew then that I had to leave. It was too personal for someone like me to be watching, or for anyone to be watching for that matter. Even if he was a ghoul too large to sit in any of the chairs they had, and she just a wounded girl, I had to leave them alone.

I left, and as I closed the door I heard her croaked voice call out to him.

"I didn't...break...my promise..."

And behind the door I heard the ghoul's rough, strain response, even more raw than when he'd confessed himself to her that one time.

"I knew you wouldn't."


End file.
